


Breathe

by ren (renegadewriter)



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)
Genre: Community: guardian_kink, Gen, Hurt Peter, Prompt Fill, Protective Team, Slightly Insecure Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 09:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2223225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renegadewriter/pseuds/ren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter has asthma. The team don't know about this until he suddenly has a severe attack in the middle of a battle. To make matters worse, they don't know what it is in the first place or how to make him better. </p><p>Prompt fill at guardian-kink on LJ.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt: [**Gen/Any Peter has asthma**](http://guardian-kink.livejournal.com/1806.html?thread=545294#t545294)
> 
> Can also be read on [**LJ**](http://renegadewriter8.livejournal.com/73283.html)

Quill had never been too hyped bout his weakness. Yondu had given him hell for it. Called him faulty and broken, but had still helped him overcome the worst episodes. When the whole thing with the guardians happened it was a miracle his lungs had cooperated. Either he was too distracted to even _think_ about having an attack or it was just one of those weeks. 

Whatever it was, it sort of slipped from his mind after they flew off into the Xandarian sunset and roamed the galaxy in search of adventures (which conveniently included bounties and even payment from the Nova Corps). 

Three months into their new found camaraderie, it hit. And it hit _bad_. 

Their villain of the week was no one important. But he had numbers and he had fire power, which made the whole thing just _annoying_. They were fighting next to the ruins of his hideout, Rocket having tested out a new bomb he’d made (which Peter had given him grief for because, “Stop dismantling my baby you ass!”), and had sent the whole thing tumbling down. 

There weren’t that many goons left, not with the five of them in top condition. But that was the issue. Quill, suddenly, _wasn’t_ in top condition. 

Rocket was being his trigger happy self just to the side of Quill, Groot roaring his war cry and providing cover for the smaller guardian. Peter, on the other hand, had been content to keep the goons off Gamora and Drax’s back, who were fighting hand to hand a block away, taking on up to three opponents at the time. 

That’s when he felt it.  

It was a small ache at the beginning, and he mostly ignored it. He threw himself to the side to avoid being hit. The fall had left him winded for a second, and when he tried to inhale some oxygen, he couldn’t. 

_‘Oh no no no no no, not now not in front of_ them _!’_ He thought desperately.   

He tried to suck in some oxygen, but his chest constricted painfully, his lungs sucking at doing their job and simply not allowing any oxygen in. Quill turned on his front, the position alleviating the sense of pressure if only minimally. He clawed at the ground, at his chest and throat. He could feel his lungs spasming but they refused to relax and let air in.  

“Quill!?” Rocket had seen the blaster fire heading in Peter’s direction, but assumed the half-terran had dodged. When he didn’t catch movement in his periphery he took a moment to look. Not seeing Quill he cursed and scampered over the debris, freezing at the sight.  

_‘No, not Rocket, he’ll never let me live this down.’_   

Part of him didn’t want the others to see him like this. He didn’t want this group of bad ass and strong people to see his so vulnerable and fragile. The other part of him just wanted to _breathe_.  

“Shit! Drax! Gamora!” Rocket yelled at them, immediately running to Quill’s side. Groot, being tall enough that he just needed to take a step to see the terran’s deteriorating condition, let out a distressed moan and quickly followed Rocket.

“What is it Pete, where are you hurt?” Rocket asked, eyes scanning his body for any injuries. 

Quill made a wheezing noise, shutting his eyes as pain assaulted him. His throat hurt, the muscles clenching in a desperate attempt to make way for the oxygen he needed. He could already see black creeping in on his vision. 

“What happened!?” Gamora jumped over the debris after finishing off the last of the goons. Her heart stopped seeing Peter on the ground.

_‘Damn it, not Gamora too.’_

“I don’t know I found him like this!”

“He is turning blue.” Peter heard Drax said, a tinge of worry in his voice.

_‘Damn it, is everyone going to come watch the show?’_  

Then Peter’s strength failed him. His arms couldn’t support him anymore as he dry heaved and he fell. Or would have if strong arms hadn’t caught him.

“He can’t breathe!”

It felt like his body was on _fire_. His chest felt like someone had used it as a punching bag, and his head was pounding due to the lack of oxygen. Worst of all, he was slowly passing out and sounds started to fade. His unfocused eyes searched for something familiar, only catching shades of green and brown. His body slowly started shutting down, his arms and legs feeling heavy.   

“Peter, breathe!” Someone shouted, but it sounded so far away. 

“What do we do? What the _hell_ do we do!?”

_“You listen to me boy.”_ The sudden memory of Yondu from all those years ago invaded his mind. _“This ain’t a toy. It’ll help you breathe in space and keep the pressure from killing you. And it’ll also keep your lugs from quitting on their job. You got that? You start feeling breathless you activate your mask. Ah ain’t having you die for something so stupid as you forgetting to do so!”_

And with that, he _remembered._  

“M-” Quill tried to wheeze out, but he had no oxygen at all to form words, nor the strength to lift his arm to activate his mask. 

“What? _What_ Peter!?” Rocket was shaking him, teeth bared and eyes shinning with worry and _fear_.

“M-k!”

“What!?” 

“Mmmmmak!” He tried again, fear starting to overtake him as he simply could. Not. _Breathe._  

“Mask?” Gamora ventured desperately.  

Quill could only nod, his body starting to convulse in a last attempt to do _something_. 

“Activate his mask, quick!”

Rocket didn’t need to be told twice, paws already fingering the small button behind Quill’s ear that would activate it. They watched, the process too slow for their liking, as the mask covered Peter’s face. For a few seconds nothing changed, and they could hear Peter slowly and painfully _dying_ behind it and they didn’t know _why_.

Then... 

Peter took in a large gulp of air, completely sitting up from where he had been propped up against Drax’s chest. He took in one breath after the other, hand fisting around his jacket over his chest. His other hand tightly gripped Gamora’s hand. The assassin having grabbed it in despair as he struggled to breathe. 

They sat there for an eternity, all watching as Quill slowly stopped shaking and his breaths started coming in more normal intervals. The sounds of him sucking in oxygen in greedy gulps was distressing and frightening.  

Gamora encouraged him, her voice shaken but warm. 

“That’s it Peter. That’s it. Deep breaths. You’re okay.”

Eventually Quill fell back against Drax’s chest. The tattooed warrior holding him in a firm grip. Rocket stood on Drax’s knee, a paw fisted into Quill’s leather jacket as he watched the half-terran’s chest rise and fall. Above them, Groot keened in worry, looking around every few seconds to make sure there was no danger lurking.  

Exhausted by the whole thing, Peter didn’t even try to move, leaning completely against Drax and at the moment not caring about anything except the blissful oxygen. 

_‘Oh thank you. Thank you thank you thank you.’_  

And with that thought, he finally succumbed to darkness. 

 

**0000**

 

Peter woke to pain. His chest hurt so much he knew it would be a couple of days before he stopped aching every time he took in a breath. And wasn’t breathing wonderful? On a whim he took in one long and deep breath, slowly letting it out and marveling at the _ease_ with which the oxygen passed through his lungs.  

_‘That’s more like it you stupid no-good lungs.’_  

He opened his eyes, noticing for the first time that his mask was still on. Groaning, he struggled to get up only to fall back down again as dizziness hit him. Back meeting a soft mattress, he forced his eyes open again and looked around. He was on the Milano, which was good, and the room was dark. Also, he was thirsty, which sucked.  

Cursing in annoyance, Quill slowly got up again, throwing his legs over the side of his bed and staying there to let the dizziness pass. He took in deep breaths (seriously, breathing was _awesome_ ) and got ready to try standing up.  

“Don’t even think about it!”

Quill jumped in surprise as the door to his room opened and a very angry looking, trigger happy and possibly slightly psychotic raccoon walked in, followed as always by Groot. The Flora Colossus took one look at him and practically _charged_.  

“I am Groot!” Like all the other times, Quill had no idea what he had just said, but the happiness and relief in his tone were undeniable.  

The tree wrapped an arm around him, vines slowly extending down Quill’s back and arm, flowers sprouting from them. Groot _hummed_ in happiness, making Quill smile.

“Hey Groot and damn it Rocket don’t scare me like that!”

For some reason this seemed to piss Rocket off.  

“Scare you? _Scare you!_ Why you stupid, imbecilic, moronic _asshole!_ You don’t get to say that to us!”

“I am Groot.” Quill sat with his mouth open at the sudden tirade. The intensity behind Rocket’s voice enough to know that he was not joking. He was _angry_ and he was pretty sure that Groot had just agreed with Rocket. Which was worrisome.   

“He’s right you know.” He looked up to see Gamora leaning against the doorframe, Drax staring at him from behind her shoulder. “ _You_ scared _us._ ” 

Actually, Quill had terrified them but they were never voicing that out loud.  

Peter sighed, the memories of his teammates’ panic and fear rushing back. “Look guys, I’m sorry okay. My fault.” He said, reaching up to remove his mask and face them properly. He was not prepared for the reaction he received for it. 

“Don’t you dare!” 

“Put it back on you moron!” 

“Do not remove your mask!”

“I am Groot!”

Everyone suddenly exploded, running into his small room and crowding around him. Gamora even went as far as reaching over to activate his mask again. 

“No no wait, guys stop!” Quill said, pushing everyone away. “I’m fine now, really!” He gently removed Groot’s arm from his shoulder, careful not to rip any vines or flowers, and slapped Drax’s hand away as he too tried to reach for his mask. “Seriously guys, it’s over. The mask did it’s job!”  

The guardians stopped yelling, but were now staring at him suspiciously.  

“You know what this is, and you knew how to make it better.” Gamora started, something dangerous in her voice. “How?” 

Everyone was silent as they waited to hear Quill’s answer. Peter shifted uneasily, really wishing he could get something to drink. He swallowed, wincing at how dry his throat and mouth were.  

“It’s... not the first time it’s happened.” He finally admitted.  

That only sent the guardians into another yelling spree. 

“You knew and you didn’t _tell_ us!”  

“I am Groot!” 

“How could you keep this from us!?”

“It was a foolish thing to do.”

“Enough!” And, ow that made his throat and chest hurt even more. Seeming to realize this the guardians shut up and stared at him, half with worry, half pissed off.  

“Look, this is... not something I’m proud of okay!” He started, glaring at them before looking somewhere else. “I’m damaged, my lungs don’t work properly and sometimes they get lazy and don’t allow oxygen in.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “And it sucks but it’s been awhile since it happened and it caught me by surprise okay?” 

The guardians looks at him with a mix of horror and exasperation. 

Rocket was the first to break the silence. “Let me get this straight. You suddenly _can’t_ breathe, just becasue?”   

Quill rolled his eyes. “Yes Rocket, that’s exactly what happens.” Then, going on the defensive added, “It’s not so uncommon on Terra. It’s called asthma. It’s no big deal.” 

“No big deal?” Gamora spat. “You _stopped breathing_ in the middle of a battle! What if Rocket hadn’t seen you!? What if one of the goons took advantage of the situation and attacked you! You were vulnerable and none of us knew!” 

Peter felt his chest contract in a different pain.  

_‘I knew it. They won’t want a damaged guy with them. Who would?’_  

“I am Groot.” The Flora Colossus saw the pain that shadowed his eyes for a moment at Gamora’s words and brought his hand up again, placing it on his shoulder in comfort.

Rocket’s head whipped up, hearing what Groot had said. 

“Of course he’s not damaged!” He said, then turned to glare at Quill. “So what if sometimes you can’t breathe. Big deal. Don’t go giving yourself a pity party or we _will_ drop you off at the next planet.”  

“The angry fur ball is right.” Drax said, ignoring Rocket’s glare (“Don’t call me a fur ball!”). “You are out teammate, our leader. But we should have been made aware of your situation to better protect you in battle. The green warrior is right. It could have been very dangerous. For _you_.” He added firmly. 

 Quill stared at them with big disbelieving eyes, making Gamora sigh. 

“Quill, you scared us because we did not know what was happening to you. All we knew was that for some reason you were not breathing. Don’t you understand? We watched you slowly _die_ and we didn’t know how to _stop_ it.” She took a deep breath, her voice cracking at the end. “You should have told us.” 

Peter felt his eyes burn, and he swallowed again against the knot in his throat. He looked at each of them, taking in their expressions, searching for a lie, for their disgust at him, but he saw only concern.  

“I just thought-” He started, voice catching. “I’m broken right? I’m vulnerable and no one wants someone who might kneel over any second fighting with them. It’s why I didn’t say anything.” The confession left him mouth before he even realized it. He felt weak, scared and useless, just like he had the first time Yondu had revived him and yelled at him for being a pain in his ass. 

Gamora cupped Quill’s chin, making him look up at them. “You are not broken, and you are not useless.” 

“She’s right! Whoever says you are will suffer greatly!” Drax bellowed, actually looking forward to it. 

“You’re arrogant, annoying, crazy, kind of a jerk, but you’re not useless moron.” Rocket grumbled, laying a hand on his knee. 

“I am Groot!” The Flora Colossus proclaimed loudly, smile wide and eyes shining. 

Rocket snorted. “Yeah, and you’re one of us so... whatever.”

Eyes still burning, but now a good burn, Quill let out a laugh. “You’re all so ridiculous, you know that right?” Wiping his eyes he let out a tired sigh. “Thanks guys. I mean it.”

Grunts and nods of acknowledgement met his words, then... 

“Now tell us in detail what asthma is and how to keep it under control.” 

 

**0000**

 

Apparently the galaxy has close to no illnesses like asthma, which made Terra _suck_. But Quill had come to terms that Terra sucked in many aspects. For the next two hours Quill explained the mystery that was asthma. How his lungs would become swollen, blocking his airways. How awful it felt and how much he hated his lungs. There were a lot of question about that that Quill simply didn’t know how to answer. He wasn’t a doctor for crying out loud, and barely knew enough about his own biology to begin to give a satisfying description. The guardians weren’t happy about that.   

He also explained that his mask didn’t just provide him with oxygen but had a substance that helped to deal with his lungs’ inflammation. Yondu had managed to replicate the substance from his inhaler all those years ago and his mask could automatically produce it. 

This prompted a lot more questions. Rocket was interested in how this was possible and what the hell an inhaler was. The first, Peter had no clue and frankly had never even bothered to ask. The inhaler part was easier, as he still had it in his box of terran keepsakes. 

Gamora and Drax had also asked questions about Yondu and his possible role in Quill’s self-view of being useless and weak. Now _that_ was a can of worms he was not going to open. 

All in all, Quill was feeling happy with himself. He was touched by their concern, and now that his asthma was out in the open, Quill felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. They didn’t see him as weak, and they didn’t pity him either. And if the guardians seemed to keep a closer eye on him in the coming battles and even when they visited a planet.... well, he was happy to play along.

**Author's Note:**

> Now even though I have asthma, I don't know all there is to know about it, so anything that does not make sense or whatever, don't be afraid to point it out. Symptoms and such are based on experience and what some other people with more sever asthma have told me =)


End file.
